CELEBRATION
East 110th Street, 1971
It was your first day back after a three-month bid at Rikers.
I was glad to see some meat on your bones, your body clean
from Devil Dope.
I was glad to do shots with you: Bacardi, Don Q, Palo Viejo,
glad to do a hit of coca, and take turns dancing with the bare-
foot barmaid with a tongue tattooed between her breasts.
When a half hour went by and you didn't return from the can,
I found you on your knees among crumpled hand wipes, tid-
bits of toilet paper, a syringe stuck in the center of your arm.
I shook your shoulders until a black goop like fish roe
ran out of your nose, then dug out a dime from your
change pocket and went to make a phone call.
Gil Fagiani